Like A Blue Flame (english version)
by meandmyinsanity
Summary: She'd never wanted this, never, she had always tried to keep herself on the safe side, but now she was right in the middle of this stupid roller coaster ride with no way to get out and all that adrenaline in her blood, celebrating some fucking birthday party... A story about debts, drowning and a girl named Darcy... (translation of my german story:) Modern/AU short story
1. Chapter 1 Meryton

**A/N: ****Hey guys! This is my first attempt at an english story, I'm german, so I'm no native speaker, please forgive me;) I had english in school and most of the stuff I read and watch and listen to is english, but I sometimes make mistakes concerning grammar and punctuation, so if you notice any grave mistakes that make you laugh, please tell me, I like to get better at this;) a friend of mine actually corrected this and even though she is slightly better at grammar than I am (okay a lot better) we're both not perfect;)**

**I published this story some weeks ago in german, but even while writing I felt like it should be written in english (if that makes sense), so here it is! This story is seperated in three parts: Meryton, London and Pemberly and I'm gonna upload them during the next week (reviews make me happy and more inclined to upload earlier;) **

**So here we go! This story is inspired by the song "Ambulance" by My Chemical Romance (they're awesome by the way;) **

**Disclaimer: I wish I were Jane Austen, because then I would kick Bingley so hard in certain sensitive areas for leaving Jane, that there probably won't be any little Bingleys (so it's perhaps better that I'm not Austen) Oh and Wickham, too! However I'm not Austen and I don't own P&P:)**

* * *

**Like A Blue Flame**

_Part 1: Meryton... or not every photographer is a paparazzi, Darcy_

Looking back, she had no idea how all of this actually started.

She'd been right in the middle of this stupid roller coaster ride before she knew she'd joined in and now she couldn't remember a single moment, where there hadn't been all that adrenaline in her blood, celebrating some fucking birthday party like there was no day after tomorrow.

But Darcy had always been good at keeping her heart under control, to open up meant to become vulnerable and being vulnerable was inevitably leading to getting hurt.

It was easy. Life was following rules, the principle of causality and of cause and effect. It was simple, _predictable_.

_After that –_ the point in her history, that cut her life like a razor in two halves – she had tried to control everything as best as she could.

She had her friends, especially Charlie, and a lot of people, that were sticking like glue to her name. She had her brother, for whom she tried to be Mum, Dad and family at the same time and she had her aunt Cathy and her cousins Anne and Cora, even though she only tolerated the old lady for the sake of the family, she and George hadn't much left of.

Everything had started the moment she had talked to Charlie.

"Come on, Darcy", he had prompted during their weekly transatlantic phone conference and his voice had been so warm and happy and _soothing_, that she'd been at the verge of curling up in her big leather chair in the middle of the day in her way to fancy office and almost, _almost _started crying.

"I know you need a break, Darling", Charlie had told her, as if he could sense how close she was standing to the edge of a nervous breakdown after the fiasco with Willa. "And I so want to introduce you to my angel, Darcy, she is the greatest person, I've ever met and I'm sure you'll like her."

Oh, yeah, right, Charlies angel, Jane Bennet, who was now living with Charlie for two weeks in his fancy mansion at the beach in Meryton, California.

She'd felt how something inside her started to awake again and after some encouragements and hints about summer temperatures and a beach house, she'd instructed her secretary to book her the next flight.

After that she'd phoned George, who told her excitedly about his new sculpting workshop in Rome, and she had forgotten every lingering doubt and her bad conscience altogether.

The flight to California had passed by in a haze and before she knew it, she was in Charlies arms. Charlie, her childhood friend, her pirate buddy, who'd run through the deep woods of Pemberley and played cops and robbers with her, who took her to prom and held her under the living when everything broke apart.

Charlie, who smelled the same way he had back then and she laughed, when she put her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulders.

She hadn't recognized the tall, red haired woman with the angel smile, not until Charlie turned her around and introduced her as "his Jane".

The woman had smiled, a warm open smile, that reminded her of Charlies smile and without a hint of the jealousy in it, Darcy had detected so many times before in the faces of the other women, Charlie had dated and she decided to like Jane Bennet.

* * *

He remembered the first time he saw her.

It had been at that party, Charlie, his sister's boyfriend, had thrown for Darcy Fitzwilliam, his best friend from England and he had been to late.

The shooting at the beach had taken much longer than expected (especially because the model had screamed the entire time when a wave crashed onto her feet) and so the sun was nearly set at the time he had made it to Netherfield, the big mansion, Jane (to the utter delight of their mother) was living in for some time now.

The party was in full swing when he arrived, people with champagne glasses crowded the living room and the terrace, that led to the beach, and he had been in search of his sister, when he caught a glimpse of her.

She wasn't really tall, average perhaps, but the High Heels she wore blurred that impression. Her hair was shoulder-length and of a nearly white shining blond and her inky black eyes were focused on the softly crashing sea.

But the really extraordinary thing about her was her pale, nearly translucent skin and when Jane introduced her later as the illustrious Darcy Fitzwilliam, he thought he could see the thin capillary veins pulsating under it.

She smiled curtly, when he introduced himself, but said nothing more, while Jane and Charlie kept the conversation alive. Her eyes traveled back to the ocean and rested there for the duration of the chat.

It frustrated him slightly, even though he had no idea why and he excused himself shortly after that to get something to drink and to be informed by Lucas Charlotte about the thousand and one unnecessary facts concerning Darcy Fitzwilliam.

And so it wasn't really a surprise, that he soon found his way back to the living room and from there to the terrace, where he sat down on one of the chairs with the purpose of enjoying the sunset.

"Come on, Darcy", he heard Charlie exclaiming behind his back. "Why aren't you dancing with someone? I can't stand seeing you moping around in some corner. Why don't you go and have some fun?!"

He could hear her sigh before she answered with a quiet but clear voice. "I'm not moping around, as you put it, but as you well know, I don't know anyone of these people here and I'm not dancing with strangers."

"Why don't you go and dance with Janes brother? He's a great guy and Jane already introduced you two."

"The photographer?" He heard her snorting and an ironic smile plastered its form across his lips. "Nice try, Charlie, but I don't dance with unemployed paparazzi."

He knew he should be upset, angry even and somewhere deep inside it disturbed him to a certain degree, that she judged him so harshly, but he didn't like showing defeat or even hurt and so he stood up, glass in hand, before he turned around and shoot her a smile, that could easily be mistaken for a snarl.

* * *

Elijah Bennet. Eli. Janes twin brother, who didn't look a bit like his sister. Eli, the photographer, with the house at the beach, who only wore DocMartens or walked bare feet, who wasn't drinking alcohol, smoked sometimes, who smelled like sand and salt and whose wolfish smile could turn her insides upside down.

She hadn't said much when Jane introduced her to her brother. He wore jeans and a dark shirt, she could feel the pins and needles in her hands and stomach and she nearly forgot her voice for a second.

He didn't stay with them for long and she was grateful for it. She hated losing control and the prickling was a well known indicator.

She stayed near the door frame, that lead to the terrace, until Charlie found her there and suggested she should dance – oh and why not with Eli Bennet?

The words were out before she was able to think about them twice and she didn't knew he heard them, until he stood up with a grin on his face, that let her stomach drive roller coaster style.

Never would she have guessed, that it would be this one sentence, he'd never forgive her for.

* * *

He saw Jane's caller ID on the screen but it was Charlie, who told him, still gasping for air, that his sister had fainted on one of their walks at the beach and he was on his way seconds before Charlie could tell him, where his sister was at the moment.

He ran the three miles from his home to the mansion and when he arrived at Netherfield, he was surprised to find not one, but two blonds in the living room.

The Pamela-Anderson-caricature introduced herself with a scowl and an appalled look at his clothes as "Charlies sister Caroline" and one of the closest friends of "our dear Darcy".

He stayed just long enough to ask, where Jane and Charlie were, and was out and up the stairs in a matter of seconds, only Carolines loud shriek "Did you see _that_?!" followed him to the second floor.

His sister looked pale and vulnerable the way she lay between the many pillows. Charlie was holding her hand, while the doctor checked her vitals and made a few tests – three hours later they were told, that Jane was pregnant.

Elijah stayed upstairs, while Charlie spread the news, he could still hear Carolines shriek from downstairs.

Jane awoke some time later, hesitantly and confused and Elijah hold her hand, while Charlie explained the doctors result to her, a mix of nervousness and excitement on his face. Jane didn't say much, but Elijah saw the angst and happiness on his twin sisters face and agreed to stay a few days until she felt better.

* * *

The news of Janes pregnancy went like an earthquake through the entire house.

The next morning Darcy woke up early and in an attempt to escape Carolines tirades she quickly got dressed and went downstairs to the beach.

In her haste she hadn't paid much attention to what she was picking from her suitcase, she pretty much took what got between her fingers and now on the terrace on the way to the beach she hesitated.

She hadn't known, she had taken these shorts with her.

The material cut a little to tight into her hips and something poke against her thigh, she stopped, grabbed into her pocket and pulled a silver locket out.

Not just a locket... _the_ locket...

Darcy had thought, she had lost it, that somewhere between her last holiday in Italy and the hasty flight back to England she'd left it in some far corner, a trash can perhaps – and until this moment she hadn't known that she hadn't missed it at all.

But here it was again, her fingers closed themselves around the metal, touching the fragile rose tendril, somebody engraved there a long time ago, the words, that had burned themselves in her memory.

_In memoriam... in memory of... dum spiro spero... while I breathe, I hope..._

What a fucking pathetic way of living ones life...

She hadn't noticed, how her grip around the gem had loosen until the chain fell with a slight rattle through her outstretched fingers and onto the floor.

Horrified she had bent down, the panic she felt, a mix of guilt and a paranoid angst, when suddenly a hand came up from behind and closed her mouth, effectively forcing her to stop.

"Shhhht...", a deep manly voice whispered just next to her ear and she felt the brimming adrenaline cascading down her veins, while her heart was beating in a rate similar to the one of a frightened rabbit.

"Stay still", the voice said quietly, while another muscular arm snaked around her waist, an antique camera in its hand. "Don't move." He carefully turned the wheels on one side of the device.

She nodded, somewhat hastily, the clicking ringing in her ears, while she stood there, in this semi-embrace of Elijah Bennet.

She could smell him, a scent of aftershave and salt and ocean and she was overly conscious of every centimeter skin, that touched his.

She heard the snap of the camera, blinked, saw, that he was photographing the sea-gull, that was picking after the locket and then it was over.

He let her free, moved back, she saw his smile and heard him humming along to the sound of the waves, while he made his way back to the house.

And she had no fucking idea, how long she stood there on this terrace, confused and with a heartbeat louder than the ocean.

* * *

Jane felt better the next morning, Eli made a quick stop at her door on his way downstairs and found her still asleep. He met Charlie on the stairs, while his sisters boyfriend carried a tray with omelet and orange juice to her room and gave him a thumps-up.

Eli would have never thought of meeting Darcy outside, but there she was, just when he was following the bold sea-gull, that had stolen his breakfast out of his hand.

She wore pretty tight white shorts and a navy blue shirt and he couldn't believe how fair her skin was, it nearly looked white in the bright sunlight.

But then the locket fell out of her hand and the sea-gull, he had named Lucy in his mind, launched into it, Darcy in an attempt to get her locket back bent down, but he just couldn't let her destroy this picture.

Eli could feel her freeze in his arms, when he put them around her. He grinned and adjusted the camera, slowly and carefully, directed the focus on the engraving in the metal.

He could hear her breathing and he enjoyed seeing the cool and sophisticated Darcy so utterly nervous and out of character.

"Done", he said and left her panting and shaking behind.

* * *

He didn't stay for long at Netherfield.

After the initial shock and insecurity had worn of, Jane and Charlie easily befriended the new situation and it only took as long as the following afternoon for them to start discussing potential baby names.

Eli stayed until the next morning and spent his time between fleeing from Caroline, advising Jane about possible designs for the nursery and arguing with Darcy.

The latter proved to be quite an amusing pastime, as cool and arrogant as Darcy seemed to be most of the time, she had an opinion about nearly everything (starting with organic food – more and more a commercial gag, and going from there to the question whether or nor pride was a necessary character trait – in her opinion "yes, because pride in contrast to vanity is no weakness.")

He rolled his eyes at these statements, but she was the only possibility for him to have an intelligent conversation in this household, as long as Jane and Charlie were stuck in baby heaven.

He called her ice-princess, glass-princess, the girl that broke, when she slept on the wrong covers.

He enjoyed annoying her, enjoyed the angry red rising in her cheeks, when he called her that.

* * *

He called her princess and she, in her utter stupidity, thought he was flirting with her.

* * *

Eli saw her the morning after, when he was back at his house.

He'd noticed the girl running along the beach only, when the focus of his camera caught her in between the waves. It clicked and the dark haired girl with the long legs was captured on film.

She turned around, when she heard the clicking noise, he saw how she furrowed her brow, lifted her hand and approached him, long, gracious movements, like a lioness on a hunting trip.

He started apologizing, but she just smiled, a bright, sunny laugh and put her hand forth.

"I'm Willa", she said without much advertising.

"Elijah", he replied and shook it. Her smile seemed to brighten up, she showed some pearly white teeth, till it disappeared, as if somebody switched it off.

Eli turned around and saw the pale, glowing figure of Darcy Fitzwilliam disappearing behind the dunes.

* * *

It was at the party, Jane and Charles threw some weeks after the incident, when Jane was safe in the third month of her pregnancy.

He was on the run, fleeing from his mother, who wanted him to dance with Coleen Richards and he was searching his younger sisters, who weren't allowed to drink anything remotely alcoholic but who did so nonetheless.

It was more of an accident, then on purpose, when he nearly crashed into Darcy and he was trying to make some sort of apology to leave her there in her ocean blue dress, when he saw Coleens bright red hair appearing behind a corner and he quickly asked Darcy to dance.

* * *

She was more than surprised, that he was asking. After seeing him and Willa at the beach, she had been in such an emotional turmoil that it took her nearly two hours to get back to Netherfield.

She tried to tell herself it was because of Willa, because of what had happened between them... tried to tell herself, that she hadn't been on her way to him.

But then he put a hand around her waist and they began to move slowly to the music.

Darcy tried to look him in the eye, tried to prove to herself, that they had no impact on her, none at all, that everything beforehand had just been a mix of heat and dehydration, but then she saw the small, ironic smile on his lips and she felt the sudden overwhelming urge to close the few inches separating them.

And sometimes she asked herself what would have happened if she'd done so.

* * *

Touching her was strange.

As pale and fragile as she was, he had thought he would promptly reach through her, if he would only attempt such a thing.

But she was no picture of dust and smoke, no phantom of eyes and ears and when he put his fingers around her waist, he was more than surprised how hot her skin was.

She was only human, no matter how supernatural she tried to appear and a small smile reached his face, when he thought about that.

* * *

She saw the smile and tried to hide her own.

"We should talk", he suggested, his gaze directed at her and she wondered what he was trying to find.

"And about what?" Darcy was more than glad to find her voice somewhere in the depths of her throat.

"Let me think... you could tell me, how hot it is outside and I would explain that this is totally normal for California. Then you could say something about the typical weather you have in England and we would at some point come to the conclusion that both countries have Pros and Cons. The normal stuff, you know."

"Seems like you have mapped out our whole conversation", she replied dryly.

"If it helps to get you at least talking for some seconds, it has fulfilled its purpose, don't you think?", he asked and she missed the sarcasm in his voice, because she was utterly distracted by trying to get all these pins and needles along her spine under control.

They danced for some time, until she got her composure back. "Do you spend most of your mornings at the beach?" She knew it was a dumb question the moment she discovered the smirk on his face.

"I'm living there", he replied and she wanted to explain her question, when he continued. "It's always very interesting", his blue eyes lit up, "you always meet a lot of really illuminating personalities there."

Her mouth opened slightly, she felt her anger rising, the shame not far behind, these old friends always got back to her. "Illuminating indeed", she replied emotionless and her arms and the points where they were touching felt numb.

They were silent for a while and she tried to find out how much she could tell him without hurting George.

"That's it?", she heard him asking. "You're dead silent and we're not talking about this?" His expression was playful, but his eyes were sparkling with fire and she wanted to shake her head, like her grandmother did and tell him what a foolish boy he was in trusting Willa Graham.

She stopped, took his blue eyes in hers, as if the answers for all these questions could be found there.

"You've got no idea, what you're talking about, Elijah", she said then, her voice painfully controlled and let go of his arms. "Willa is remarkably talented in making new friends, the question is moreover if she is able to keep these friendships."

He looked at her sharply. "Seems like she lost your friendship a long time ago."

She didn't jump back, even though his words awoke all these painful old daggers inside her, that stabbed and tortured her when she couldn't sleep at night.

"Remains the question why", she replied and left him there on the dance floor, while the music took its turns and sung about love and how easy it was to loose yourself in it.

* * *

He went home shortly after her, stayed just long enough to witness the announcement of Jane and Charlies engagement and disappeared after some congratulations, when Mrs Bennet stood up and vented her excitement towards the audience.

He made his way back along the beach, the pant legs of his tuxedo turned up so he could walk between the waves and when he came back to the house, somebody was waiting for him.

* * *

Some hours later, after the music went silent, after the majority of the guest were gone, after she had listened to Georges voice on her mailbox and was somewhat calm enough, she went in search of Eli.

She couldn't find him anywhere, bare feet she walked through the many rooms of Netherfield, over the dance floor, where some pairs still were, drunkenly holding onto each other, swaying to the music in their heads, and over the terrace down to the beach.

She walked along the wet sand, the moon just bright enough to enlighten the sharp backdrop of the dunes and the mountains against the sky and she felt the water under her feet, while making her way to Elis beach house.

But when she arrived, he wasn't alone.

She knew these dark tresses of hair, the laugh in the semi-dark and she saw how he bent down and kissed her.

She had thought she knew heartbreak, knew the sound of a shattering feeling, like glass falling onto the floor.

And so she stood there, bare feet and without a jacket and watched him kissing Willa Graham.

* * *

Six hours later she sat in a plane back to London, Caroline next to her.

* * *

**A/N: So what do you think? Leave a review, tell me what you like or don't like or correct my mistakes;) "London" will come in the next few days, stay tuned for that;) **


	2. Chapter 2 London

**A/N: Hey guys, I'm back! Here is the London part and it's the most dramatic part, we get to meet Lady Catherine;) na, just kidding, the drama increases between two other people;) thanks for the review, kmart92, great you like it:) and also thanks to everyone who favs and follows this story, i hope you will like this one;) **

**Soundtrack to this part:**

** Sound Of Pulling Heaven Down - Blue October**

**Kiss With A Fist - Florence And The Machine**

**Disclaimer: Last time I looked, my skirts reached my knees not my ankles and I like the name Jane, it's just not mine;) so I don't own Jane Austen or even P&P, sad I know;)**

* * *

Part 2:

_London... or how to learn about art, Elijah_

He found out about Darcys and Carolines departure a few days later, when the gossip started.

It began with some English papers, that sold articles about the gold digger, that had captured the heart of the multimillionaire Charles Bingley.

At first both Jane and Charlie just let them talk, but the news flooded back from England to the USA and soon all the American tabloids were also full of it.

Paparazzi began to camp around Netherfield and even though Jane assured everyone, that everything was fine, Eli didn't believe his more and more stressed out and pale sister one single word.

Charlie assured him, that Darcy had nothing to do with it, that on the contrary she was doing everything in her power to stop this, but Eli wouldn't hear a word, he couldn't stand people hurting his sister and he found Darcy Fitzwilliam fully capable of it, especially after everything Willa told him.

"We were best friends", she'd said, at the evening of their first meeting and in the light of the sunset. "Then her parents died and from one day to the other, Darcy turned... cold, you could say. Suddenly she spent the whole day in her office and had to do all these really important things. We lost sight of each other, but there was still George." He'd gazed at her and she'd smiled somewhat sadly. "George is Darcys younger brother, he was twelve when his parents died and while his sister was occupied taking over her parents' company, he was alone most of the day...

I took care of him", she'd told him next and he thought he'd seen tears in her eyes. "I drove him to school, helped him with his homework... God, we went to DisneyWorld together. When Darcy found out, she was furious..."

"But why?", he'd demanded to know, while he'd tried to picture Darcy furious.

"She didn't want someone like me...", she made a grimace, "to have such an influence on a Fitzwilliam." She shrugged. "She threw me out."

"But she was you friend..."

Willa just snorted.

"There is one thing you need to know about Darcy Fitzwilliam, Eli, she will throw you away like a hot potato, if you don't please her and her standards." She'd shaken her head.

"But that's not the end of the story. Last year, shortly after he became 18, George got into some really bad circles, bored HighSociety Kids with trustfonds way to big and way to much free time... George had nobody, Darcy was always away, the aunt is a nightmare and he started experimenting with drugs and the like, till he got addicted and he had a lot of debts with people, you should never be indebted to." Her voice became silent for a moment.

"When Darcy found out, she was livid and she determined that it was time to take revenge on me. In her own twisted world, I was the one responsible for Georges addiction and she used her contacts to transfer his debts on me..."

He still could remember the small smile, that crept onto her lips in that moment and all he had wanted to do, was to hold her close and tight.

"Needless to say, the visit they payed me was everything but peaceful." With her index finger she'd slowly traced the line of the silver scar on her temple. "Not peaceful at all."

* * *

Willa said goodbye a few days after Darcys and Carolines departure and he tried not to feel left behind, she was an animator for a group of tourists after all, and so he focused all his attentions on Darcy and what she had done to Jane and Willa.

Charlie had told him his suspicions were utter bullshit, that Willa was not trustworthy, but Eli was determined and he hated being wrong.

Sometimes he wondered, if he had clung to that idea so tightly, just because it gave him an excuse to think about Darcy and he did... think about her... way to often for his taste..

* * *

It took two months until they met again.

Jane was now in the fifth month of her pregnancy and was decorating excitedly Netherfields interior, the paparazzi found Miley Cyrus' latest scandal way more interesting than a multimillionaire and his fiancé and departed and Coleen Richards and Lucas Charlotte were now an item.

He hadn't said much, when his best friend informed him of the relationship and agreed to accompany them on their trip to England, which would, as Coleen put it, "do extraordinary things for his career"- she wanted to introduce him to her boss and patron Lady Catherine DeBourgh.

The Lady in question turned out to be loud and brash and with such a bad taste concerning art, that Eli sat at multiple dinners in her house with his teeth pressed tightly together, in order not to explain to her ladyship, that two neon colors on a canvas don't make an artwork.

And yeah... she was Darcy Fitzwilliams aunt.

"Elijah", she'd said, her face a carefully constructed mask, when he'd entered the parlor and she had looked at him as if he was a ghost. "What are you doing here?"

He contorted his face in a painful grimace. "Learning about art."

* * *

He was there.

He was there, after she had spent eight weeks in London buried in her office, trying to do everything but thinking about him.

_The world is a fucking small place..._

He didn't talk to her about Willa, didn't mention her even once in all these hours they spent together at her aunts townhouse and she was more than ready to do the same.

But the more time she spent together with him and Lady Catherine, the more she could see the differences between them. He was an artist, a photographer, he was living in a beach house in California, while she lived in her way to big apartment in Mayfair and was the CEO of an international company. And the more she thought about it, the more these facts started to find a way through her head and in her mind.

* * *

It was at the exhibition he did for her aunt in the ballroom at Rosings.

A grand room full of pomp and naked little angels and to many gold decorations for Eli's taste. He printed his photos on big 1x2m canvases, vast black and white photographs of human silhouettes, impressive in their size, event though it was mostly done to cover a large part of the interior design.

After the doors were opened, people were flowing in like giant rubber balls, people, to many people with champagne glasses and lipstick, loudly discussing his pictures and nearly mistaking a hand for the complexity of life choices.

Eli spent his time hiding behind his artwork or trying to get away from conversations with some persistent art lunatics, who found him no matter what he did.

He hadn't seen Darcy since the beginning of the evening and thought she had gotten away as soon as humanly possible, but she wasn't gone, just hidden behind a pillar.

She stood in front of one of the smaller pictures he had placed in the corners of the room, a champagne glass pressed softly against her lower lip. She wore black and he saw the pearl chain shimmering through her light hair.

When he came closer, she turned around, the ghost of a smile on her face. He nodded slightly and leaned with a sigh against the wall.

"You don't like these occasions", she remarked, her heart beating in a frenzied pace against her ribcage.

He snorted, a light, sarcastic smile on his lips. "How do you know that?"

She didn't reply immediately and he missed the flaring-up in her eyes when he spoke.

"We're both not good at these things", she said. He froze and rose up.

"Perhaps", he replied, even though he didn't want to admit it.

Then Coleen and Lucas came and he would have liked to cover his ears with his hands when the red haired girl broke out in a fit of excited exclamations and encomiums concerning Darcy in general, his exhibition and Darcy in particular and Darcy herself didn't feel much differently.

"What do you think about this picture?", Lucas asked suddenly, saving the situation by interrupting his girlfriend and directing the question at Darcy.

She gazed from Lucas to the picture to Elijah. "I don't know", she said and her gaze traveled again back to the photograph of a mirrored face in glass, the ocean in the background.

"It reminds me of drowning."

He didn't say anything and she wouldn't look at him, when she went with her rapid beating heart back to her aunt. He told himself, that he was angry, that she was wrong, that Darcy Fitzwilliam couldn't be the one to understand him, because the truth was, she did... understood him.

And so he never told her, what the picture's title was.

_Drowning..._

* * *

After she'd run away, she had no idea, what to do and so she spent the rest of the evening walking through the vast ballroom with no destination at all, without seeing anything, until the pain in her feet forced her to stop.

And in that moment, while she stood still and the world around her came to an abrupt halt, it suddenly dawned her.

She couldn't fight any longer, she wouldn't do it.

* * *

It rained when she came to him.

She had made the whole way from Mayfair to Bloomsbury by feet and finally stood drenched and soaking on the doormat of the apartment, he shared with Coleen and Lucas.

He was surprised to see her and more than surprised to find her wet like a young puppy with a nearly irritating smile on her face in his doorway.

He let her in, a pot of hot coffee in his hand, it was barely nine o'clock.

They were both not talking much, while he gave her a towel and grabbed, still bare feet, a chair in the half open kitchen space, trying hard not to stare on the drenched clothing that stuck to her body like a second skin.

Suddenly she showed up, appeared behind the towel with messed up blonde strands of hair, the same irritating smile on her lips, brighter than before, confusing him.

"I love you", she said, instead of a simple "How are you?" and he was too surprised to say anything.

"I know that it's totally crazy and insane and such a fucked up idea and I don't know what my aunt is going to say about this, or what people in general will say... Your family is totally inappropriate and you're the complete opposite of what I should actually need, but I'm not able to go another fucking day without you! It's like you got into every cell of my freaking body and took over world domination... it's... God, it's so damn crazy, I shouldn't feel that way for someone... for..." She stopped and started stammering.

"...someone like me", he finished for her, his expression hard and unreadable.

"Yes." She sighed and tried to smile. Her hands were shaking.

"I'm sorry", he said as calm as possible and stood up, "if I caused you any pain, believe me, it was unconsciously done and concerning your cells...I believe, they will get back to normal."

He didn't look at her, while he put his cup in the dish washer and thought she was gone, when he couldn't hear her say anything in reply.

"And that's everything you are going to say?" He turned around, she was still there, frozen to her spot, the dark eyes dominating her face. "May I ask why I am rejected with so less an attempt at civility?" She nearly spat out the word.

He crashed his hand down onto the table. "And may I ask, why you apparently "love me" even though it's insane?"

"So you would have liked it better, when I had fallen to your feet like all these other girls? Should I have kissed your ass, so that you would look at me, when you're rejecting me? I was honest to you and if you were not so damn stubborn..."

"Stubborn?", he asked exasperated, hands pressed tightly on the kitchen table. "I'm stubborn? You know as well as I do, that I've got other reasons to reject you! What you've done to Jane and Willa is cruel, Darcy. Do you really think that I would have started something with a woman, who does things like that to her friends?"

"What I have done to Jane and...Willa?", her voice broke and she thought she would need to vomit.

"See, you don't even deny it!"

She narrowed her eyes, concentrated on this one bloody point before her, while the rest of the world seemed to fade.

"I only tried to be a good friend to Charlie", she spat out.

"Is that what you call friendship?" He came closer and she needed to look up to meet his gaze. Shit, she should have left on her High Heels.

"And what about Willa?" He was still moving closer, not noticing how much space he had already crossed. She saw it coming, but couldn't resist. He was so close.

"You're showing an awful lot of interest for that.. woman", she spat, her hand inches away from the collar of his shirt.

"She told me what happened", he replied, the blue eyes practically glowing with anger.

"Oh yeah, because fate was so unfair to her", she hissed and he was so close, that he could faintly smell the scent of her perfume, this breeze of something, that reminded him of some fucking, half forgotten melody, clouding his mind.

"And that are the words of a friend", he mumbled before his lips crashed down on hers.

It wasn't soft, she could feel his lips on hers, demanding entrance, his tongue between her teeth and she understood, that this had nothing to do with love... had nothing to do with what she felt.

This kiss was an attack, was hands in hairs and under wet clothes, was heat under her navel and between her legs. She could taste coffee on his tongue and he the rain on her skin.

And then there was the bed in her back, his hands under her blouse and everything she could think about was, that this wasn't right... couldn't be right.

She bit him.

He jerked back, tasted blood on his tongue. Panting heavily, they looked at each other like drowning people that broke right through the surface.

She still felt his body on hers and slipped away.

"I'm sorry", she whispered and then she was gone.

* * *

_Don't be afraid, Eli, that this letter could contain any of these things I told you yesterday... I just wanted to defend myself against the accusations, that were made..._

She had come to him the next morning. Pale and in a dark, way to big sweatshirt, he wouldn't have thought she possessed. She had given him the letter and went with a single "Read it".

_Willa was one of my closest friends, next to Charlie, since I was a little girl. She was the outgoing person of the two of us, while I was the one to rescue us both, when she got us into trouble. _

_I loved her like a sister, she was my sister, but that changed the day my parents died. _

_It was a car crash, pathetic I know, but nothing is as effective as a driving vehicle on a watery street to kill two people. Beside a gun, but that's not the matter._

_My parents were rich, filthy rich, to be exact and when they died, they left their whole legacy to me – I was eighteen for three hours when it happened. _

_George was twelve at the time and I forced him to stay home while I sorted things out with the lawyers, I didn't want them to remind him of it all the time and force him to endure all of these condolences every fucking two minutes. _

_Willa took care of him and to be true, I was grateful for it, because I had no idea how to talk to him and she had always been better at making him laugh._

_But something changed between the two of us, she started talking about money and what we could do with it, now that I had it She asked for large sums, for parties thrown at my parents house and I denied her._

_I withdraw from her, tried to limit her contacts with George, I didn't want her to talk to him like that, at that point I felt sick to my stomach whenever I read our financial statistics or the numbers in my parents testament. _

_We lost sight of each other until we weren't even talking at all._

_But a year ago she came back into our lives. _

_At that point I mostly buried myself in my work and after rejecting her, she began meeting up with George, who still saw her like an older sister._

_She told him, she had problems. She had tried drugs, cocaine and some other stuff, whose names always change and who cost more than her salary would allow. _

_George tried to help her, he lent her money, as much as he could, but it wasn't enough, it was never enough._

_Willa transfered her debts onto him, told them, he was a rich boy, a Fitzwilliam and that he would pay for her._

_When he did not, they beat him up._

_He had three broken ribs, a skull fracture, some broken fingers and for some time it was more than insecure if the bones in his leg would ever mend the right way._

_I don't know, what she told you, if she showed you the scar on her temple... it's from a bicycle accident when we were nine._

_About Jane and Charlie... I like your sister and I'm truly happy for Charlie. He's my best friend and I've never seen him happier than at the day they were told to expect their child._

_About the rumors... it was Caroline, who told the tabloids about the supposed gold digger._

_She told me shortly after we arrived at London, she thought I would be proud of her, or some other fucking bullshit._

_Everything I did since then was focused on keeping the scandal at minimum but bribery only goes such a long way and gossip always finds its audience._

_I haven't told Charlie, because I don't want to hurt him, no matter what she does, Caroline is still his sister, however undeserving she might be. _

He had to swallow hard at these lines and everything he could think about was, that he didn't know her at all.

He could still smell her in his pillow, still felt the pulse under her skin beating...

He didn't know her and everything he wanted to say was, that he was sorry, but she still beat him to that.

_I'm sorry, if I made your visit here awkward or unpleasant in any way. London is a great city and I hope you will enjoy your last days here. _

_I'm leaving today, we will probably meet at Jane and Charlies wedding... for their sake... let's forget it ever happened..._

_Sincerely,_

_Darcy Fitzwilliam_

* * *

After giving him the letter she was restless. She run down the streets, tried to remember where she was and where she was going, but she wasn't seeing much more than just street signs and people and the first time she stopped was in front of a hairstylist, who made advertisement for itself in bright neon colors.

She made her decision the moment she sat down on the pink leather chair and the gum snapping stylist with the side cut didn't even bat an eye when she told him the colour.

She told herself it was because it was her favourite colour, because it was the colour of the ocean , not because blue was the colour of Eli Bennets eyes.

The flight from London passed in a blur of moments, randomly pieced together. One moment she was standing in Heathrow, staring out to a rainy London, the next thing she knew, she stood under the hot and bright Italian sun.

She felt numb, as if his words had taken all the living things from her. He hated her... even those words had no meaning.

She took a taxi from the airport, lost herself in the crowded city, the pulsation and the heat. Her hair provoked some interest, but that didn't matter... not anymore.

She'd just reached the Fitzwilliam town house, walked across the cool marble floor, not quite understanding that she really was here, when a loud scream sounded behind her and she was nearly thrown to the floor by a strong bear like hug.

"George", she whispered and bit back the burn in her throat.

"I'm so happy you are here", exclaimed her brother and spun her around in a circle until she felt dizzy and had to laugh about the silliness of it all. "I like your new hair colour!"

"Me too", she replied, a whisper, when they stood still and she buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in the well-known scent of home, of family and belonging and she needed to remind herself not to cry.

She was there, she was home.

* * *

He hadn't noticed that something had changed.

He came home, tired and exhausted, his head still in London, still stuck at that fateful day.

Jane was the first one to notice, but he blocked all questions with a small grin. The next were Lucas and Coleen, his father and last but not least his mother, who all asked if everything was alright.

It wasn't. It wasn't alright, but even hour long errantry at the beach, did not bring him clarification.

How should he explain, that it felt like he lost something in London, as if he had somewhere between Mayfair and Bloomsbury left a piece of himself behind and only taken back these memories of her perfume and her skin under his hands?

He had tried to photograph, tried to capture what he felt, what was there and what was not, somehow into a picture, but all he could think about, was the word "drowning" and how it summed up the state he was in so fucking accurately.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, that was the debts and drowning part, hope you like it;)**** next part will be uploaded on thursday, I think;), depends on how many reviews i get;) and it will hopefully contain the Happy End (it's not named Pemberley for nothing, right?) **


	3. Chapter 3 Pemberley

**A/N: Hello, my lovely readers! I'm back again and here is the final part of this story (and i promise a happy ending:) thanks to all you wonderful people who read and favourited and reviewed this story, you certainly made my day:) **

**to cutelilmochi: I would have liked to reply to your questions directly, but the private messaging feature was enabled? I'm sorry, but the following part will certainly answer them all;) cool that you like her new hair colour, it was actually the inspiration for this story;) I think you will get it later in the story, when the title is repeated;)**

**to dizzy lizzie. 60: I also liked the kiss, I always want to let them kiss in the train wreck proposal;) it's so fucking overwhelming with all these emotions running wild... funny that you think Eli is the poor one, to me it felt like he was sometimes the bigger ass of the two, but he's more amiable in this part;) so here is the conclusion you were hoping for... and by the way, are you and LBD fan?;)**

**to kmart92: great that you liked the last part and I totally understand what you mean when talking about "passionate", because I felt the same way, it's excitingly different because here the girl is doing the proposal;) and I think "drowning" is a good word to describe these two...**

**Soundtrack to this part: **

**The Manic - Amarante **

**Gasoline - The Airborne Toxic Event (the song playing on the radio in the first part;)**

**Disclaimer: I'm just a student trying to get statistics in my head in order to learn the stuff, I'm really interested in (who told me life was fair?! oh yeah... fairytales...) so I'm not Jane Austen and I don't own anything of this, I'm just doing this to get my mind off of things (like math for exemple...)**

* * *

Part 3:

_Pemberley... or in other words known as the Happy End...  
_

"Don't you want to tell me, what happened?" They were on their way to Pemberley. Darcy was driving their old Camaro, George right next to her, listening to an old rock song on the radio, he hummed along the lines.

"What should have happened?" She stared onto the seemingly endless street in front of them, the contrast of asphalt and green on the roadside and the heat haze on the horizon, forcing her eyes to blink.

He sighed. "Darcy, I know something is not alright, okay? You're acting strange since you're back from London, not to mention your hair colour... Is something the matter with Aunt Cathy? I know she can be a real bitch, but..."

"No", she replied, grateful for the big sunglasses she had put on today. "Nothing happened..."

The song grew louder, the raspy voice of the singer echoed in her ears, she was again good at keeping her heart under control. _Finally..._

"Tell the guy, I'll beat him up and kill him next time he hurts you, okay?" George flashed a smile, but the look in his eyes was sincere.

She smiled, shortly, fleetingly, thought, that he would probably like Eli Bennet, if these two should ever meet.

But for the moment she was more than content, if he would just castrate him.

* * *

Ed and Maddie Gardiner, two of his friends from art school, were the first to get him out of his "mood", as his mother put it.

"We're going to Italy", explained Maddie one afternoon, while they were sitting outside on his front porch, Ed was in the back of the house looking for some special film reel, Eli had put in his fridge.

"Sounds great", was the only thing Eli said, while staring at the ocean, a habit he had only recently worked up.

"And you're coming with us."

"What?", he exclaimed, the first real reaction he had shown that day.

"You're coming with us, Eli, no more moping around. I've got enough of that melancholic disposition, you seem to suffer from. It's time we're doing something about it."

"But I can't just come with you to Italy!"

"Sure you can", intervened Ed, moving Elis heavy travel suitcase outside on the porch. "The ticket is booked, you have no appointments and Italy is calling, so move your ass!"

"You can't be serious!", Eli said in disbelief, looking from his suitcase to Ed and then to Maddie, who nodded.

"Like a dead man", she said. "You're coming with us."

And so he went along, as some kind of appendage of Maddie and Ed, who also took him with them, when they visited a friend of them on his estate.

* * *

She never would have thought, that she would meet him here, of all places in the world.

It was a hot day, the temperature already up in the eighties when the sun rose and while George was working in the shadow of his studio, until his visitors came, she decided to go for a swim.

The weeks in Italy had been good for her and she had build some kind of cushion around her heart, but there wasn't a day she wasn't thinking about Eli and the way he had usurped her whole body and so it wasn't a great surprise, that she thought she had lost her mind when she saw him at the foot of the hill right below the pool.

* * *

He thought he had died and awoken in some fucked up kind of heaven and hell, when he saw her.

She stood at the edge of the swimming pool, a white summerdress over her bathing suit, bare feet and with wet blue hair, that fell right over her shoulders.

The air around her seemed to flicker and he was sure, that if he wasn't dead, that he was at least hallucinating.

She took some steps toward him, he looked at her, waiting, asking silently and then she ran.

* * *

She didn't know what happened when her legs took control over her body and followed the impulses of the limbic system.

People say, you should talk to hallucinations, when they appear, that you should accept them so that they go away, but she wasn't giving much thought to what people would say recently and sometimes running away was the better solution.

When she arrived panting at the door to Georges studio, she noticed he was not alone. A man and a woman, George seemed to know quite well, were with him, discussing the latest marble stone, George had bought a week before. She stayed where she was, tried to catch her breath, when she heard the woman speak.

"Where the hell is Eli?", she asked. The man next to her laughed.

"He wanted to look at the trees down by the pool. You know how he is, when he found an object."

"Oh, yeah", she laughed. "Good for him, that he has finally begun photographing again, this melancholic thing has taken far too long."

George chimed in with his laughter, while Darcys heart beat faster. "If he's down by the pool, than my sister has probably found him. So no worries there."  
"No, Eli is a big boy..." They laughed again, while Darcy went back to the pool, to look if the hallucination had really been one.

But when she came back, he was gone.

* * *

She turned around, the same sober feeling in her gut, like back then in London, only to find him standing right in front of her.

"Hi", he said, staring at her. She was slightly tanned, the pale skin not as cold as before, her dress clung to her body and he tried not let his eyes wander.

"Hi", she replied and tried to form some sort of smile on her face, while they were looking at each other.

"Your hair is blue", he said after some time, taking a good hard look at the strange colour. It suited her, the blue hair and the dark eyes made her look like some kind of mermaid. "It looks great."

The gaze, she directed at him was a bit suspicious, as if she wasn't sure if he was honest with her and he wanted to bang his head against the tree over there, because he had been such an idiot.

But then something brightened in the dark and she smiled, the same sort of smile, that had hunted him all these past weeks.

"Yes", she said. "I like the colour."

* * *

Darcy invited them to stay for dinner and they accepted, somewhat reluctantly on Elis part.

The meal went well, although George was eyeing him suspiciously, but after some questions about sculpturing, different attempts and techniques and the possibility of getting figures out of cement, he opened up and was warm and friendly and laughed with Darcy about the things Maddie and Ed told them about their trip through Europe.

The relationship between the Fitzwilliam siblings fascinated Elijah. Physically speaking they had little in common, while Darcy was fair and petite, her brother with his dark hair and obviously much darker skin was practically her negative as well as a good 10 inches taller than her and he was surprised how close these two were. He had never seen Darcy smiling so much and she seemed to glow when her brother told some of his jokes.

He even saw her jumping on Georges back, demanding a piggy back, when they escorted Eli and the Gardiners down the hills after their meal and after the darkness indicated, that it was well beyond eight o'clock. Her dress and her figure were glowing in the dark and he could see her teeth when she threw her head back, laughing at something George said.

She looked at him, sometimes... in between words and phrases and while handing him the bowl of salad and he wasn't sure if that meant, she had forgiven him, if it meant, she still loved him, or if she was over him and he wasn't sure which one of these options he preferred.

* * *

They saw each other everyday.

Right after breakfast they would drive to Pemberley and while Ed and Maddie spent the day with George at his studio, there wasn't any other option for Darcy and Eli as to spent their days together- neither of them minded much.

They drove in her old Camaro, through the mountains, to the shore, to different markets in the neighbouring cities, she showed him all these old castles and he took photos of her when she stood on the engine bonnet in one of her summer dresses with her head held up and into the brightly shining sun.

* * *

But at one of these days she was nowhere to be found.

When they came in the morning and he asked for her, a taciturn George gave him a name and a direction – Eli was on his way before the door to the studio fell shut behind Ed and Maddie.

He drove a long time. The small, curvy streets that were drawn across the mountains seemed to be endless and the heat was no better.

When he finally stopped in front of the wall, built of sandstone and turned off the engine, everything but the squeaking wrought-iron gate was silent.

He could see her from where he stood on top of the stairs. She wore black, a fluttering silk dress and he suddenly understood what day it was.

He couldn't hear a thing while watching her and the hot wind blew across the graveyard, the bright sandstone seemed to glow under the sun.

She stood in front of one of the gravestones, her shoulders a rigid wall between herself and the world and her hair danced around her head like a blue flame.

He came closer. _Dum spiro spero._ The words on the gravestone.

She must have heard him coming, heard his steps in the sand, but she didn't move her head in his direction, her hands in fists in the wrinkles of her dress.

He closed the last meters, could smell her, thought about that fucking melody in his head and finally understood what it sung about.

* * *

She felt the warmth in her back and then across her arms, when he hugged her. He held her tightly against his chest and she couldn't say a word when his scent hit her and she could breathe for the first time that day.

* * *

He held her close. She felt good in his arms, she was skin and bones and muscles and he could feel her scars under the thin material of her dress.

She laid her head against his shoulders, her hair tickled his neck and he could hear her breathe, but she didn't cry.

* * *

"I had a sister", he began after a while. "Her name was Mary."

She sucked these details up, these fragments, the way his voice scratched at her ear.

"She was younger than Jane and I, by a year, maybe two." He took a breath. "When I was seven our parents took Mary and me to the cinema, Jane had a sleepover with some friends and Lydia and Kitty weren't born at that time... It rained the whole evening, but my Dad was a good driver and we felt safe inside the car. Mary and I were playing TopTrumps, she was way to small to understand the rules, so we made up our own ..." She felt him laughing against her ear and it sent shivers down her spine.

"Dad took a turn and when he wanted to cross the road, a Pick-Up suddenly crashed into us." He stopped for a moment. "It hit Mary and she was dead immediately."

He could hear her sharp intake of breath, but she didn't say anything and he was grateful for it. "The driver was drunk and missed the traffic signs. We others survived, but things have never been the same way again and Mary was dead."

She leaned closer into him, tried to express her pity without speaking and he understood the message.

"It's okay to be sad, Darcy", he whispered in her ear. "It's okay to be angry about the fact, that they're gone."

* * *

She didn't tell him, she was glad that he was there, didn't tell him, that she could breathe, when he was close. She tried to be as near to him as possible, because when she closed her eyes, she could at least, for some minutes, pretend he felt the same way.

* * *

The call from his totally hysteric youngest sister the next day disrupted the strange harmony, they had created.

"Lydia! Lydia, what the hell happened?"

He only got the story in snippets, something about how she and Willa befriended each other and how she had persuaded Lydia to start a road trip with her, to escape the people, she owed nearly a fortune.

"They're after me!", sobbed Lydia, while he tried to calm her down. "And Willa hasn't been back for hours!"

Darcy stood next to him, while he was on the phone and the look in her eyes was hard and determined.

"You have to go to your sister", was all she said, an unreadable expression on his face, he nodded and three hours later he sat on a plane back to Meryton.

* * *

Two days later Lydia reappeared, disturbed and full of tears, but alive and unharmed. Mama Bennet pulled her into a tight embrace and let her tears run free, while Mr Bennet asked relieved but surprised, how she had escaped.

Lydia didn't need to say a thing, Eli knew it before the name "Darcy" left her lips and she tumbled exhausted in her bedroom.

He wanted to call her, to thank her for what she'd done, to tell her everything, but right at that moment his phone rang.

It was Jane. The baby was coming.

* * *

She heard about the news of little Teddy Bingleys birth over the phone. A completely overwhelmed Charlie called her in the middle of the day ( in California it was eight o'clock in the morning) and nearly cried, while he told her about the birth and that Theodore had already some streaks of red hair on his head.

She congratulated him and wanted to go back to bed even though it was only 3 o'clock in the afternoon, the episode with him and Willa and her jet lag clung to her nerves and made her tired, when Charlie told her, that Eli had asked about her.

She booked her ticket the same day.

* * *

He saw her the moment, she came into the foyer of the hospital.

She wore jeans and a T-Shirt, her hair was a blue mess and she wore no make-up at all.

He stood at the foot of the staircase a steaming cup of coffee in his hand, his eyes were bloodshot from the past night.

"Hi", he said, when she moved closer and searched her face for some kind of indicator. She smiled and he felt how his face contorted at the same time.

"Hi."

They stared at each other, nervously and shaking and she could feel her heart beating rapidly against her ribcage.

"I just wanted to thank you... for everything you've done for Lydia..." The words were out before he could think them over.

She smiled, a bit sadly. "It was the least I could do."

"Regardless..." She saw him, the shadow of his beard around his chin, these blue eyes, that gazed at her so intensely and suddenly it was so fucking easy.

She stood on her tiptoes, leaned in, the cup of coffee between them, and kissed him lightly on the lips.

She heard him inhale sharply and a shiver ran down her neck and then there was no cup between them and he reciprocated the kiss with so much intensity, that her knees started to buckle and she had to hold onto him, in order not to fell over.

She heard his laugh vibrating against her skin and she could feel his heart pounding when she laid a hand on his chest.

"I love you", she murmured, somewhat cautiously. He pulled her closer, whispered it lightly against her open lips.

"I love you, too, Darcy Fitzwilliam."

* * *

Three months later Jane and Charlie celebrated their wedding in the ballroom of the most exclusive hotel in town.

The ceremony was touching, Mrs Bennet was crying, Mr Bennet walked his daughter with a smile down the aisle towards a beaming Charlie, while little Teddy had found his spot in his grandmothers arms.

Lydia and Kitty were bridesmaids, while Eli and Darcy were best man and maid of honour, Caroline, dressed in a horrible shade of orange (she wasn't allowed to wear black), sat in the back of the room, scowling and pouting.

The priest spoke a few words about the nature of love and the value of a marriage and then it was time, the vows were spoken, little Teddy squealed a bit and the rings were exchanged.

And not long after the bouquet toss, best man and maid of honour were nowhere to be found, unless somebody would look behind the great palm tree in the foyer, where a shimmer of pink and blue betrayed the hidden couple.

Darcy stood against the wall, her blue hair clashing perfectly with the pink dress, Jane forced her to wear, while Eli Bennet in a tuxedo, bowtie and DocMartens played with some strands of her hair, before he kissed her again and she bit him, playfully.

He tasted like salt and ocean and everything was perfect.

She was home.

* * *

**A/N: I'm not exactly sure about this chapter and it's pace, but for know, that's the way it is and I hope you like it, I might get back to it some time later and add some parts to get it more fluent, let's see... I actually changed already some parts (like the kiss in the end, in the german version there is none, but I felt like it today, so take it as a special treat, I hope it's not to cheesy;)**

**I really liked this adventure in the english world of Pride and Prejudice and I am thinking about also translating my other (modern) P&P story, it's about Lizzie, the medstudent and Darcy, her ethics professor, they clash and collide, he wants to save her, but she doesn't want to be saved (it also deals with drug abuse/addiction, running away and some violence, but it's also really funny and a lot about growing up;) It's definitely longer than this one ;) so what do you think? I won't be able to start this project until the end of february, I think, and I will definitely need a beta for this, because I don't think I can bother my lovely friend (who I suspect of reading this;) to do the betaing (is that a word?) on a regular basis for me:)**

**Tell me what you think about this and if you would like to read such a story, I promise it will be fun;) also tell me what you think about this chapter! Reviews appreciated!**

**Love ya all! **


End file.
